


_Nightcall: Empty Darkness

by glenarvon



Series: _Brilliancy [32]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Not A Happy Ending, a little messy too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glenarvon/pseuds/glenarvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he can go to ground, Aiden has one last thing to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	_Nightcall: Empty Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> **Aiden's new phone (for your googling pleasure):** philips fluid flexible concept
> 
> **Author's Remark:** This was surprisingly easy to write, considering how difficult I found Flashpoint. However, if you've ever checked by my tumblr, this is the story that sparked the little dialogues, so it didn't go down entirely without frustration.
> 
> Also, the amount of spectacular sex those two have is just downright ridiculous. There, I said it first.

[takes place in summer 2026, about half a year after firewalker]

* * *

Profiler went smoothly through the faces in the crowd, the Lens tracking the direction of his gaze to assess who he was looking at, the software trawled the net and assembled the data for him, spooling it down right in front of his eye: 

_Donna Dean, 36_

_Founder Infinite Freedom Org_

_17 unanswered mails (5 flagged sender ID)_

_2 missed calls (2 flagged caller ID)_

**_last social media activity:_ ** _blog entry: "Thinking about organizing a charity event. Good idea or waste of money?"_

**_last nudle search:_ ** _damure hemophilia_

**_last online activity:_ ** _enrolled in dance fitness program_

**_last email:_ ** _reservations@laserenissima.nightlife; subject: reservation 08/29_

**_recent contacts:_ ** _34 new [expand]_

**_medical history:_ ** _new prescription: Damure_

**_employment history_ **

**_voting history_ **

**_social media aliases_ **

**_…_ **

**_new register entry:_ ** _pending_

* * *

Donna stopped with everyone else as the traffic light changed, standing in the middle of the evening crowd. A seemingly never-ending stream of cars rushed past, each individual car hummed quietly to itself, but the sheer number of them still drove a white-noise hissing through the wide avenue of 8th Street, funnelled between the bright white and reflective metal surfaces of the tall buildings on either side.

The wind was warm, but harsh enough to tear loose strands of her hair and whip them across her eyes before she shook free again. Idly, she watched over the sea of faces across the street, then glanced up at the glittering billboards above. Some complicated algorithm dictated the content of these billboards, depending on the people in its immediate vicinity, perhaps even the direction they were going. It changed from some expensive cologne commercial to a trailer for _Night of the Fox._

Donna arched an eyebrow, amused despite the rush of mixed feelings it kindled.

It wasn't a very good film and it stalled at the box office. Though, to be fair, it never had a chance to do well. From the moment it was announced, the production had been dogged by problems. All the dirty secrets had been leaking all over the internet almost weekly. There'd been vicious in-fighting between the scriptwriter, the director and many of the leading actors, all of it meticulously documented in email and instant message protocols that grew gradually more insulting and juvenile.

Blume had thrown some weight around and got most of itself scrubbed from the final script, acquitting themselves of any ctOS malfunction that had wrecked Chicago so badly it warranted Hollywood attention. The CPD had eventually got in on the act, too, once they figured out a film about their inability to catch one man in the city with the most surveillance wasn't going to make them look good.

The lead actor had got himself tangled in an ugly sex scandal just a week after filming had wrapped up, public and disgustingly explicit. Donna was fairly sure he wasn't going to be working in this town again, even if he managed to keep himself out of jail. Donna felt almost sorry for him despite how vile he was. He hadn't been miscast, although younger and far more handsome than the man he was portraying.

Piercing blue eyes stared down from the billboard as the trailer ended.

_"More husky than fox,"_ Donna had said caustically, curled up in her living room with Leon, after she'd ran out of good reasons to avoid it. In the end, she needn't have worried. It was too fictionally removed to make her think anything she didn't want to.

The flow of cars petered out, she trailed her gaze down and froze.

Aiden stood motionless under the billboard advertising his own film, looking calmly back at her from across the street, rendering all the people between them inconsequential.

Tension crawled up her neck, pulled the skin too tight and closed down her throat. But she moved with the others, allowed the flow of people to carry her across the street.

She stopped again, just on the sidewalk and she felt too close already, enough to make out the details of him. Time had chipped away at him until there was nothing left but lean muscle and sinews. Lines had carved deep into his face and age had thrown a smattering of silver through his short dark hair. He was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, an unbuttoned dress shirt over it, she guessed it hid a gun holster from at least a casual onlooker, the baton strapped to his belt. One of the new flexible phones lay like a glossy black bracelet around his left wrist.

She couldn't read in his face, but that was nothing new, she never could, she'd only fooled herself into thinking she did. A frown edged itself into her face, made her skin feel like it was about to crack.

Aiden stepped forward, when it became clear she wasn't going to move again before he explained himself.

"Call Leon," Aiden said, deep voice carrying easily over the din of the city. "Tell him you're working late and you'll have to turn your phone off, then do it." He lifted an arm, clearly to reach for her, but stopped himself under her unmoving gaze.

"Can we walk?" he asked and at least he remembered to dress his order up as a question. "I'm on a tight schedule."

She still just watched him, the Lens in his right eye exaggerated the green.

"Donna… please? We're already running late."

She narrowed her eyes, angry at the new breach of her privacy, at his audacity to just waltz into her life the way he had and at all the old wounds she thought had long since turned into scar-tissue, but somehow stung again now.

But she didn't think he'd be here if he had a choice. She nodded, silently, and fished her phone from her bag.

He reached for her a second time, but the movement was more deliberate, hovering his hand behind her back.

"Can we walk?" he asked again.

She shrugged, turned in his guiding hand and strode down the sidewalk by his side, pretending to concentrate on the phone in her hand and the asphalt under her feet, the pedestrians crossing their path who didn't seem to be paying them any attention at all.

Leon was a freelance illustrator, he kept his own hours, which was good because she had a full schedule even on good days, running her own foundations, consulting for the LAPD and others. Leon didn't care if she was late, it happened too often. He didn't mind if she cancelled on him at the last minute because a dockworker had found a shipping container full of people or a raid had turned up a brothel full of minors.

Today, though, his understanding made her feel like a cheat. It grated on her nerves, made her even more acutely aware of Aiden by her side, the restless fluidity of his gait and the penetrating attention of whatever the Lens' display was telling him about her.

He led her to a car and she climbed in with barely a second thought. For all her misgiving, her justified scepticism about his motives, he must have his reasons for this and it would be best for both of them if they got it over with quickly and smoothly.

She sunk into the expensive upholstery of the car, wondered only briefly if it was stolen, if Aiden cared at all. Blume was burning out the shadow world he inhabited, she didn't know how much freedom he had left, how much access he still retained and for how much longer he could make it last.

He drove too fast, though, confidence about to tip into recklessness. She remembered how thrilled it used to make her feel.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. _What are you doing in my life?_

She wasn't looking at him, watching the lights pass outside the window, but she caught the flash of green as his gaze passed over her briefly. She wasn't a great fan of Lenses and he was looking too deep anyway.

"There'll be problems with your New Register entry," he said after a moment's pause.

"No," she said and knew it was a stupid denial. She'd always suspected it would. "You can't."

_You can't still be holding that leash and use it to drag me back._

"It'll consolidate all existing databases," he said. "They'll connect you to me."

He stopped and she heard his indrawn breath. "I got a place, I'll explain when we get there. Safer that way."

She dropped her head back, stared at the patch of sky just about visible above the street as Aiden drove them away from the glittering lights and into the seedier atmosphere of Hunters Point. Some parts of the district had been redeveloped over the years, but this particular spot had resisted such change. Bulky apartment houses, grimy and weather-beaten, badly lit by yellow street lamps and only patchily surveilled by ctOS cameras.

In the car-park where Aiden stopped, the lamps had failed completely.

The car-park was nearly empty and the apartment building she followed Aiden to only had a handful of windows lit up. The elevator was broken and most of the apartments seemed to be empty, abandoned with trash rotting away in a corner, filling the stairway and corridors with a subtle, but vaguely nauseating stench.

Aiden stopped in front of a nondescript door, but rather than use a key, he tapped something on the phone on his wrist and a smooth, metallic sound came from inside. He turned the handle and pushed the door open, made an inviting gesture at her, mocking in its earnestness.

The inside of the door had been fitted with a modern lock and reinforced with steel braces. If anyone wanted to force themselves into the apartment, they'd have better luck going directly through the wall.

Aiden closed the door and engaged the lock.

Despite the security, everything had a haphazard look to it, clearly set up while not wasting time, never meant to last longer than a few days. The apartment was just one room, furnished with a kitchenette and a narrow bed against the far wall. The bathroom door was missing. A small folding table was filled with an array of computers and screens, cables crossing between all of them. Aiden had pulled the stove aside and rewired the power for his rig. Between bathroom and kitchen, a large flexible screen had been affixed to the wall. It came live alongside the other screens when Aiden walked in. In split-screen, it displayed eighteen different camera feeds. Most seemed to be from outside, corners of the building and nearby streets. Other cameras filmed the corridors and stairwell.

Donna turned on her heels, watched Aiden walk to the table and pick up a small pile of paper and hold it out to her.

When he saw her slightly perplexed look, he smiled a little and said, "Harder to hack, but don't hold them toward a camera."

She took the paper and glanced down on it. There was no light other the screens, unrelenting white and blue making it difficult to read, but it was enough to spot her own details on the first page. Name, date of birth, names of her parents, addresses…

"What is this?" she demanded, held the papers out accusingly.

"Your new identity," he said, but before she could voice an objection, he corrected himself. "Your new _old_ identity."

She looked down on the paper again, judged there to be about thirty pages. She looked back up at him.

"Wouldn't it be easier just to mess with the records?" she asked.

"No, not anymore," he spoke slowly, shook his head and leaned against the edge of the table. "Things are moving too fast. Blume is gearing up to introduce a new OS and I don't have access to it, they are already running it in all sensitive areas. They probably have backups of everything, I can't do a clean job of it. This makes more sense, it'll be messy, but it'll give you wriggle room if you do get flagged."

"Okay," she said tonelessly. "Explain."

"It's constructed around your time at the Infinite 92. Your record from before is also pretty patchy and that helps, but the selling point is gonna be Quinn's auction. Full of girls with no documents, few records and plenty of contradictions. It's easy for things to get mixed up. One of the girls rescued was a Diana Ventura, she committed suicide in 2017. She doesn't resemble you much, but some of your more dubious records will point to her instead of you."

She stared down at the files in her hand. She said, "I'll never not hate being reminded of where I come from."

She looked up, met Aiden's gaze again, waiting for him to make some remark, but he just watched her. He'd dimmed the glow of the Lens, a small concession to her comfort perhaps.

"What do I need to do?" she asked.

"Nothing much," he said. "Read the files, I marked everything I changed. It's nothing substantial. You can still run Infinite Freedom, see your mother on Christmas and fly to Cuba with Leon over new year. Don't forget to Register."

For a moment, she considered, then said, "You know about Cuba?"

She wasn't sure if he looked caught or not, most of the light was at his back and what she saw of his expression was nothing but a strained kind of calm.

"Do I have to tell Leon?" she asked, tired of the argument before it had a chance to even start.

"Doesn't matter, tell him what you want."

He kept watching her for a long moment and she thought he was going to say something else, but instead he put his fingers on the phone, stared into space as he focussed on something on the Lens' display.

"There's a number to a burner phone in those files," he said. "Call me if there's a problem, but it'll only be good to the end of the year. I have no more access when Blume upgrades their software. I'll call you a cab."

She stood at the centre of that desolate room, lit by computer screens and the only sound was the low humming of the servers, the only sense of movement from the changing angle of the cameras.

"That's it?" she asked, sharply, lowered her hand. She should leave it, should turn and go and never look back.

"What else is there?" He sounded strained and his composure seemed barely skin-deep.

"That's all?" she reiterated. "You come here out of _fucking_ nowhere after ten years, for what? So you can 'save' me again? Protect me? Like you always do?"

She took a step forward as she spoke, saw the tension in his body, but he didn't move. A mirthless laugh escaped her as she said, "But what you're doing, that's not protection, Aiden. It never was."

Aiden had gone still, gaze fixed on her so hard she thought she could feel the weight of it. He shook his head and even that small gesture seemed to take effort.

"What else should I've done?" he asked. "Let you register? They'd charge you as an accessory, it'd ruin your life."

She was balling her fists, crumpling the files in her hand. Having to hold on to them was distracting her, annoying. Just because this one time he had a valid reason didn't negate all the other times. To this day, she didn't even _know_ all his transgressions, what he'd done to enslave her.

"Stop trying to _own_ me."

"I'm not," he snapped, the mask finally shattered all to pieces and he was _angry,_ at her and the world, at the life he didn't have and the battlefield he was abandoning.

"Are you sure?" she sneered and took a last step toward him, pushed by the rage at the back of her throat. She dropped the files, she didn't care anymore, she'd forgotten they mattered, that he was here only because of them. She bared her teeth at him, stepped too close. He was still leaned against the table, though he was ready to spring, she still had to look up to meet his gaze.

"I've been owned, Aiden, I know what it's like," she pointed out, more softly than before, but the steel was still red-hot, threatening to burn her. "And you _liked_ it," she said, lips pursed around her teeth, gaze digging into his, hoping she could shatter the damned Lens with the force of her will alone. "The way I submit to you? You loved it. Everyonedid."

She settled her hands on his hips, pinned him into the table as he drew a sharp breath and went utterly still. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped down.

She hated being on her knees, it didn't seem to be much of a deal, but the symbolism had always grated the hardest, worse than the hands on the back of her head, worse than the taste and the smell. It wasn't what she was doing, it wasn't whether she wanted to or not, it was because her consent didn't matter.

Aiden knew it, too. She'd told him, perhaps he'd even listened.

"That's the woman you wanted," she continued, watched as the contrast sharpened in his eyes, the digital green of the Lens against the black of his blown-wide pupils. He was about to move, she knew, felt the tension in him under her fingers, didn't have time to enjoy the heat of him.

"That's a bitter fucking lesson," she snarled as she dragged her gaze down, over his chest and the way he breathed too quickly for someone at rest, a thin sheen of sweat had pulled his shirt close to his abdomen and the outline of muscle there. His hips were already angled forward from his position, his arousal already traitorously evident.

Her fingers felt brittle, too numb, working open his belt, leaning her arms into his thighs to keep him in place and get closer.

"Tell me to stop," she said in sardonic echo, fully intending to hurt. Her neck strained and the tension made her skin so sensitive to the abrasion of denim and leather, secretly yearning for the skin beneath and a small part of her regretted she had started it in this way, leaving him no options.

"Alright, _stop,"_ Aiden ground out, barely a heartbeat later, deep voice cracked from anger and unbidden lust. He reached down and clamped his hand around her wrist to still her movement. His grip was hard, very nearly painful as she strained against it. She froze, though, letting the fingers of her free hand linger on the edge of the waistband, hovering to slip inside.

She looked up at him, felt the strength in his grip but resisted being pulled back to her feet and he eased up, just a little. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth.

"Shit," Aiden muttered. "I'm not a saint, but I'm _not_ …"

She yanked on her captured arm, a half-hearted attempt, dragging on the belt still in her hand. His grip tightened immediately, bruisingly strong, but the pain barely registered as pain.

"Stop _lying!_ " she demanded.

Her element of surprise was long gone, so when she brought her free hand to grip him through his jeans to make her point, he snatched her wrist away instantly, as if he'd known she'd do that. He bared his teeth like an animal and dragged her up, finally, hard and fast. He towered over her when he stood up, held her easily as she leaned up into him. He turned them, pushed her into a wall, so hard it drove the air from her lungs, made her head drop back and hit the wall.

There'd been a snarl at the back of her throat, but it came out as a moan and it made her give a mocking laugh.

Aiden shifted his grip on her wrists, pinned her arms to the wall above her head with one hand, but he with his arm outstretched, he kept himself out of easy reach, his hand on her wrists the only place of contact.

He swiped the Lens from his eyes with the hand, dropped it to the floor where it remained a tiny spark of light. He narrowed his eyes. The intensity of his gaze hadn't lessened in the least.

"What's that even prove?" Aiden hissed, but she heard the strain in his voice and knew the story he was telling himself in his head was falling apart. He was just restraining her, to stop her from doing something they'd both regret, but he wasn't backing away and his gaze kept flitting down, watching the curve of her open mouth.

She arched her hips off the wall, brushed into him and saw the flutter of his eyelids as he struggled not to close his eyes. He snapped them open again, sharp enough to see right through her, if he'd been able to think at all.

She kept rocking her hips, teasing friction, tethering on the edge of control, but she didn't know whether it was his or hers that would shatter first. She couldn't recall when this… _thing…_ had stopped being an argument and become foreplay, her body reacting shockingly fast to just his vicinity. Whatever she thought she was proving, it was working both ways, a slow burning sizzling crawling over her entire body.

"Come on, do you think I don't want it?" she mocked and she knew he didn't, she'd torn that certainty from him a mere moment ago. She had done worse, she'd put _everything_ he thought he knew about their relationship into doubt.

"I can tell _you_ do," she added, trailing her gaze down pointedly only to snap it back up.

"I don't know what you want."

She let her head drop back, strained in his grip, writhed against the wall. Even without touching, her other senses mapped his body for her. She couldn't see much of him, just his face, unmasked and raw, all his contradictions laid bare, now that he wasn't trying to play her.

"I have to stop wanting you," she asserted, but it was just another challenge. "Do you want me to beg?"

The answer flared in his eyes in the moment before he moved, stepped in close enough to feel his heat through the layer of clothing and the abrasive scales of their anger. He leaned in, ghosted his hot breath over her cheek, down her neck as she tilted her head to the side for him, tickling her exposed skin.

He was so close, she felt the movement of his lips as he spoke, sandpaper voice pitched so low she felt it more than she heard it.

"No," he breathed and sank his teeth into the tendon on her neck, slid his open mouth back up, grazed the side of her jaw. His hold on her wrists shifted slightly as he angled his body into her, trapped her by the wall and stepped a knee between her legs. He traced the fingers of his other hand down, from her throat over her breast and belly, deceptively gentle for a moment, then trailing pressure and making her nerve-ends catch fire.

"Are you done?" he asked, mockery tugging on his voice, but his steely resolve was breaking away with every ragged breath he took and he didn't stop touching her, didn't release her wrists or step away.

She turned her head to catch his gaze and hold it, but she wasn't sure who looked more feral and feverish. It didn't matter. She bared her teeth at him. She wanted to kiss him, but he was out of her reach.

"Don't you dare," she said, hard challenge crawling up her throat. "Don't you fucking dare," she repeated, writhed away from the wall into his touch as well she could.

She saw him close his eyes to predatory slits, felt the moment snap.

Without any more flourish, he hiked her skirt up, dragged his fingers past the flimsy fabric of her panties, then up into her body. The first strokes were too rough, his fingers still dry. A choking moan escaped her as she rode up over his hand, though she couldn't get very far. His mouth was back by the side of her face, teeth over her cheekbone, tongue by her ear.

"What about Leon?" he asked, curled his fingers inside her. "Are you going to lie to him?"

A spike of icy shock washed through her, down her spine only to transform into something hot and liquid. It didn't count. Aiden was barely real anymore and it wasn't possible to cheat on someone with nothing but a fantasy.

"Or maybe," she said, though her voice stuttered. "I'll tell him… everything. You'll hate it. Information… you… can't control."

Her mockery was running thin, rapidly losing its priority as Aiden pressed the entire length of his body against her, tensed the grip on her wrists, pulled her up and she moaned, hung from the wall like a rag-doll.

"You're… humping my leg like a… dog."

"Well," he whispered, unimpressed. "You're soaking wet."

What _did_ it prove, though? That she had more dark desires than the men she met? That the adrenaline got her off? It only proved he was good at catering to it. It meant when she hacked her teeth down into his lower lip to keep from crying his name he didn't flinch away. It meant the movement of his fingers inside her was unrelenting and irresistible. She shuddered, bit him harder because she lacked the presence of mind for a proper kiss. She peaked too fast for it to be truly good, a cry barely managed to come past her throat, spasms petering out as fast as they'd started.

Aiden bit the side of her neck again, then grazed his teeth along the tendon of her throat, sharp counterpoint to the crashing ecstasy. She'd forgotten how good he could be at this and he knew her body far too well.

She clenched her legs around his hand and thigh, soaking his fingers and his jeans and her panties. Gasping for breath, body still shuddering, she found it momentarily difficult to remember how they'd got there. It was easier to just let herself go, lean into the wall, soak up the heat of Aiden's body, enjoy the aftershock as it made her twitch.

Aiden buried his face at the nape of her neck, cursing quietly and through the white noise of her own heartbeat in her ears, she heard something that sounded like _what am I doing?_

His body tensed, a moment for reprieve and an attempt to collect and control himself enough to move away. A moment she didn't let him have when he released her wrists and she brought her arms down around his neck, jumped to wrap her legs around his waist and claimed his mouth, finally free to do so.

Whatever reticence he was still clinging to, it didn't outlast the kiss.

They tumbled backward until Aiden hit the table, the impact made it scrape across the floor a few inches and her knees hit the edge, sending pain up through her bones. She winced and a strained grunt worked itself from Aiden's mouth as he jerked back and their teeth clashed. Even now, she felt the dangerous tilt of the table as she slid her knees over it so she didn't have to let go of of him.

She brought her arms down to grip the back of his neck, his shoulder, tangling her fingers under the edge of the shirt to get at living skin. A shiver went through his body, a moment of harder tension and he pulled back a little with an involuntary snarl. It sounded like pain, but his tastes clearly hadn't mellowed. He bit her tongue in retaliation and she snapped her head back for only a second before he took her mouth again as if he intended to suck the very breath from her.

The table folded away under them, but Aiden seemed to have anticipated it, or at least he reacted instantly. Gripped her tighter and leaned forward, brought a hand up to the back of her head so when he tipped her back and down in sharp vertigo, his knuckles hit the ground and not her head, though his fingers were just as unrelenting, tangled in her hair as if he relished the chance to do so.

His computer equipment shattered to the ground along with the table, pulled connections loose and hit hard and metallic. The light changed, screens blocked or damaged, hard plastic scattering.

The floor was dirty, smelled of grime and dust, overpowered instantly as Aiden laid over her, arms braced by her head and he kissed her again. She finished what she'd started with his trousers before, the same quick movements, graceless in her eagerness and Aiden seemed incapable of holding still, leaning away and into her grip. His fingers were everywhere, back at her skirt, dragging it up over her hips, then roughly pulling the buttons of her shirt loose, pulling her bra down to kiss and lick and bite her breasts, making her moan and writhe. She clawed up his chest and dug her fingers into his shoulders, the sides of his neck, the vulnerable junction of jaw and throat.

He gave a frustrated growl, finally sat back for a moment, his touch leaving her. He shrugged out of her grasp, but only so he could get rid of his shirt, tossed it away. She just slipped her hands back down, undid his jeans until he brushed her away to shove his jeans far enough down. She felt his fingers between them, over her, in her, around himself, but it was his gaze that caught and pinned her in the moment before he rocked himself into her.

She gave a low, breathy laugh, clamping her legs around him, arched her body into him without any regard for the slow-grinding rhythm he was trying to set. She fisted her hands into the shirt and yanked him down over her, she wanted to devour but he kept his mouth hovering just out of reach.

He rolled his hips and she gasped, lowered his head just a little more, brushed his lips over the side of her face, drew back before she could take his mouth.

"That what you want?" he rasped, voice deep, but wavering.

"No," she answered. She slung her arm around his neck, gripped the back of his head, though she found no hold in his short hair. "Harder."

His next thrust rocked them both forward across the dirt-stained floor, drove the air from her, making her shudder and moan. Aiden chuckled darkly, finally leaned down to let her have his mouth and she took full advantage of it. She lost any control of the rhythm when he complied with her demand, couldn't do more than writhe under his weight, but she could hold his neck and head and ravish his mouth.

All her nerves were electrified, made her so acutely aware of her entire body without any filtering. She _felt_ the bite of her panties in the side of her thighs and hips, shoved aside. She _felt_ the rub of her displaced bra underneath her breast, the lace at the edge of the cups scratching soft flesh. Some piece of dropped equipment kept knocking into her shoulder, but she couldn't be bothered to take her hands off him for long enough to kick it aside.

Aiden wrenched his head back, breathing hard. She let her head drop back, arched into him and let her eyes fall closed, basking in the additional spike of sensation.

She heard a low, dark chuckle and Aiden shifted, leaned over her.

"I'm not stopping," he whispered, viciously, voice stuttering with his movement.

She snapped her eyes open, caught his gaze, his face so close she could see his pupils blown wide.

"I didn't say _stop,_ " she moaned, dug her fingers into his arms, nails into his skin. "I said _harder."_

She bared her teeth at him in challenge, heard him growl and he brushed a hand down her thigh to grip her hip, changed the angle and she cried out, louder with each successive, powerful thrust.

It was far too fast and too intense to last, everything felt hot and alive, too much sensation shooting spikes of euphoria down her spine, winding up to breaking point low in her belly. There was a part of her that still wanted to taunt him, see how far she could push, but she didn't have enough air and her thoughts scattered, overwhelmed. Her cry broke, rendered silent when he thrust deep, stayed there to grind down, just short, deep thrusts, hitting all the right places. Nothing was _still,_ everything in her tensed and shook and shivered, control not so much lost, but ripped open and hurled away.

He said something by her ear, but she didn't listen to the words, only felt the low, dark vibration of his voice against her skin. He sat up, both hands clasping her hips and he changed his rhythm again, found some way to beat into her even harder than before, into the resistance of her trembling body, sprawled out on the floor.

Aiden pulled out of her while spasm ran the length of her body. The cold air hit her hard the moment she was empty and she snapped her eyes open wide, some remnant of control coming back to her, or just the desire to _see_ him. To _watch_ as he, with a harsh twist of his hand, jacked a last spurt over his fingers, moaned uneven and drawn-out. He looked utterly sensual, head tilted back and his eyes narrowed to glittering slits, though never completely closed.

She'd missed him, she thought, him and the way he tasted and the sounds he made.

She pulled herself up, tightened her legs around him with shaky muscles, before he even had a chance to recover. She felt him twitch away then go still, looking back at her past the lashes of his eyes.

She said, "I don't love you."

Amusement crossed his flushed face and for a moment nothing else happened. Her body shuddered in aftershock. Aiden folded his sticky fingers along her jaw, smearing fluids along her skin. Without breaking eye contact, she chased his touch with her lips until she sucked his finger into her mouth, tonguing the digits. He settled his other hand on her throat, just a hint of pressure, enough to make her go still.

"I don't care," he said. His grip tightened just slightly as he freed his fingers from her mouth and kissed her long and deep before she had a chance to swallow against the constriction on her throat.

She wanted to fold into his arms, but as the force of the kiss slowly began to fade, she remembered how they'd got there. She pulled back, but she saw no real anger in his face, no resentment of what she'd thrown at him, or perhaps he was merely hiding it too well. With Aiden, everything was possible.

She couldn't stop pushing, though, something had to give.

"Ask me to stay," she demanded. His hand was still at her throat, she felt the weight of it as she spoke.

He put his head to the side, regarded her in silence for much longer than she had expected. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, just slightly, but his gaze drifted away for a second.

"Stay," he said. "Tonight."

* * *

Dropped boneless, Donna lay on the outer edge of the bed. It was becoming uncomfortable, springs digging into her flesh and there were damp patches on the thin mattress. The air was cold and stale on the drying sweat on her skin, they'd kicked the blanket to the dirty floor, were it was an uninviting heap, too much effort to retrieve. Her body ached, spent and sore, evidence still trickling thickly from between her legs and her breathing had yet to return to normal.

Aiden's arm was caught under her neck when she'd rolled away from him, his lax fingers close to her face, more evidence drying on his fingers. She knew he wasn't asleep either, heard it in his breathing, the low thuds as he bounced his knee on the wall just slightly and the scrape as he flicked a piece of loose wallpaper.

All this time, and they still didn't know how to be close to each other without leaving bruises. They still needed to mark each other to make it real. It made no difference that the thought alone sent a last aftershock through body, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it.

He could have said _for good_ when all he said was _tonight_ , but she didn't know if it was his sacrifice to her, because it was too late to fix something that had already started out broken. She hated him for making her leave, but knew he wouldn't see it that way. For him, it was her, walking out on him, hanging up on him.

For a moment the words were in her mouth, she could taste them. She moved a little on the bed, felt the involuntary tightening in his arm, and forced herself to be still, swallowed the words down.

Instead, she watched as the night slowly began to fade. It was barely discernible at first, the black in the corners was less deep and took on a washed out grey gradually. The cold glare of the screens was less vicious and bright. It was still late, she thought, but it would tip and fall into morning soon enough.

"Weren't you running late?" Donna asked.

Aiden didn't answer at first, so long she caught herself wondering if he hadn't fallen asleep after all. Eventually, she heard him chuckle roughly.

"I thought I'd give us both an excuse to leave, if things got awkward."

She felt the amusement in her throat, but it, too, she swallowed before it could spill free. She didn't feel like laughing. She moved a little and she didn't know if she was going to curl into him or if she would get up. A spring found her thigh and she winced, shocked awake and into reality, snapping her leg away from it and before she realised what she was doing, she had sat up. Done it too fast, too, bright spots swam into her vision.

She looked for her clothes around the room, her shoes, her bag. There was the pile of paper that had caused all of this. The folded table and the debris of the equipment around it. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she cast a glance over her shoulder and was relieved to find Aiden not looking back at her, he hadn't even moved the arm after she released it.

It was bright enough to see patches of pale, pinkish skin on his arms she couldn't place at first until she realised they were healed burns, not old enough to fade, but at least they wouldn't scar. She didn't know what had put the burns there and didn't feel like she had a right to ask anything of him anymore. Someone had tried to burn him, but hadn't been able to make it stick, perhaps the rest didn't matter.

The old tattoo was more faded than she remembered it and a grazing shot had sliced across it, marring the image further. She wasn't looking for the scars, though. She tracked her gaze over his bare body and yes, there were the remnant marks of the fights he'd been in. His body was densely muscled, sharper defined even than she remembered and the weathered texture of his skin the only visible concession to his age.

He stopped flicking his fingers against the wallpaper and ripped off the tiny piece. He stopped the slight knocking of his knee against the wall. She saw him take a deeper breath, the moment before he moved and she looked away before it happened.

For a moment, she managed to lose herself in the sight of the room around her, its desolate state and the empty feeling it left on her mind. It felt akin to tranquility, a tired substitute of it, but the best she could do and she didn't have to make it last.

Slowly, she forced herself to her feet, her knees were shaky and unreliable, a reminder she thought she should resent more than she did.

She went through the room mechanically, toes curling in disgust from the caked dirt on the floor. She found her skirt and blouse, shook them out and brushed away the flecks of dust moisture had made cling to them. She picked up her bra and gave one of her shoes a kick in the direction of its companion. Her panties were a piece of damp cloth she disentangled without much enthusiasm.

The bathroom was in no better state than the rest of the apartment, nearly empty with age-old discolouration streaking the tiles and the inside of the curtain-less shower. The toilet had no seat, but at least a roll of paper. The only indication anyone used this place at all was a toothbrush and paste and a handful of small packets of shampoo and shower gel, probably picked up in motels on the journey from Chicago. An empty beer bottle stood in a corner, but for all she knew, it could've been there for years.

She heard the low twang of the springs of the bed as Aiden got up. His shadow passed the doorway, but she didn't try to catch a glimpse of him. She heard the whisper of cloth as he dressed and a moment later there was a harsher clatter as he put the table up again.

She smoothed her clothes out some more, then hung them across the sink. No seam had ripped, thankfully, but there was little she could do about the stains and the dampness. She tried the shower, but it only made a gargling sound before it sputtered a gush of yellow water and she turned it back off. She shrugged to herself, too tired to care and used a handful of toilet paper and water from the sink to clean herself up as well she could. She tried to clean her face, too, but there was no telling the state of her makeup without a mirror.

When she walked back into the living room, Aiden was nearly finished with setting up everything on the table again. He didn't acknowledge her as he straightened away, picked up the chair to throw himself down on it.

Donna strode across the room and picked up her bag. She already had her phone in her hand when she remembered and looked up at him.

"Can I use my phone as mirror?" she asked.

Aiden glanced at her and, nodding, held out his hand. When he gave it back a few moments later, it was already set to the mirror app. The phone picked up no carrier, but she hadn't expected it to.

She would have to tell Leon, she thought, as she caught the first look of herself. There was no possible way she wouldn't look utterly ravished and she didn't feel like lying to him anyway. Better he knew these things about her. Aiden could've been honest with her on countless occasions and chose not to be. Look how that turned out. She didn't think Leon would leave her. He'd be angry, but he knew she was damaged goods, he could handle it. At least he wouldn't have to speculate and worry.

She combed her fingers through her hair, smoothed the short waves back from her face into a semblance of order. Her makeup was smeared, of course, and she hadn't been able to wash it all off with just cold water. It didn't matter. A hundred and one party-goers in this town would look the same as they made their way home in the dull glow of morning.

When she lowered the phone, she saw Aiden still slouched at the table, one arm hung casually over the back of the chair, the other rested on the table by the keyboard, facing the small screen in concentration. He hadn't bothered to make himself presentable, wore just the jeans and the unbuttoned shirt hung loosely from his shoulders.

She watched him for a moment and thought of how his skin had felt under her fingertips.

Acting on impulse rather than reason, she brought her phone up again and took a picture. The brightness of the flash gave her away, of course, but Aiden only turned his head to her and she saw he'd retrieved the Lens. She expected him to object, but his face remained impassive. He said nothing and turned his head back to the screen.

Steeling herself, Donna dropped the phone back into her bag and stepped into her shoes. She stalled only a little, doing it. Enough space and time for either of them to say something, but they both held their silence instead.

"Did you call a cab?" she asked and her voice sounded too loud in the silence.

"Yeah, but it's not here yet."

She took a step forward, for the door, but it did bring her a little closer to him, too.

"I'll wait downstairs," she said and took another step. Her gaze fell on the papers and for a moment it was hard to remember their significance. She picked them up, folded them in half so she could stuff them into her bag, then stood still again in indecision.

"Aiden…"

He glanced at her, but she couldn't focus on anything other than the glare of the Lens, as it peeled away the layers of her self. She didn't know what he saw with it, what secrets of hers lay buried in the depth of the net only for that thing to bring them to light.

"I should wait downstairs," she finished.

She got all the way to the door before he even reacted and his voice stopped her. She lacked the heart to turn back, stared at the fixtures on the door, already unlocked for her through some command she hadn't noticed him make.

"If there's a problem," he said seriously. "Call. I mean it, no strings attached."

"Yeah," she said, but it came out too quiet. "I will."

* * *

The cameras followed Donna as she walked down the hallway of the half-abandoned apartment building. The cameras watched her as she leaned her weight into the doors to make them open and stepped out into the cool light of morning. She wrapped her arms around herself as she climbed down the stairs, then took a step back and out of the wind to wait.

The cameras picked up the taxi as it rounded the corner and stopped for her. In an instant, the programme zoomed in on the driver's face and Profiler ID'd him, spewed out relevant and irrelevant information on him, confirming he was harmless and just doing his job.

The cameras watched as Donna left the doorway and stepped to the car, exchanged a few words with the driver before she got in.

Aiden took a deep breath, blinked only once, and when he opened his eyes again, the taxi was gone and for just a moment there was no movement at all in any of the camera feeds.

**Author's Note:**

> **Revised on 11/May/2017**


End file.
